


The Alter Boy and The Matzo

by Spot_On60



Category: A-Team, The A-Team, The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spot_On60/pseuds/Spot_On60
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're dropping like flies in Hannibal's house at Benning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Alter Boy and The Matzo

"Hey BA? You're going to be late for work." Face had the door to Bosco's room open only wide enough for a cat to pass through. He received no answer. Face reluctantly entered the room. BA used to share it with Murdock, but it was all his now. Although both of them had housing on base, Hannibal's house had three bedrooms plus a daybed in the lower level with the pool table.

They had made some rearrangements when Face moved into the Colonel's room. Murdock had taken over Face's old room, yet Face still left some clothes and other personal items there. Never know when someone might snoop around during one of their BBQs or after, when there were extra bodies around the house the next morning.

Murdock abandoning the second twin bed in the third bedroom left BA with the room to himself. Unless, of course, Murdock needed to sleep in the extra bed because Face needed to return to his old one. Yes, it could get complicated.

Face went in to wake the sleeping man, "Hey BA?" He nudged the muscular shoulder. He barely grunted in return. Face tried again, this time noticing how warm BA's shoulder was even though it wasn't covered by a blanket.

"What time is it?" he mumbled.

"Time enough for you to still not be late for work. Come on, big guy. It's Friday. Only one more day til the weekend. Unless of course you were planning on playing hooky to spend the day with me." This should have elicited a groan at the very least, but there was no grumbling.

Face had taken the day off and was expecting Hannibal home early. They were heading out to their favorite seaside inn for the weekend. Face was packing for them and would have everything ready for Hannibal when he returned home. All he would need is to change his clothes and get in the 'Vette. From there Temp would drive his cares away, at least until late Sunday afternoon.

"Hey BA, you alright?" Face was reaching to feel the Sergeant's forehead. "Jeezus, you're hot."

"Not feelin' so good," he mumbled back.

"I'll get ya some aspirin. Help get your fever down."

Face was back in a few minutes, "Only two left. I'll need to go out to get some more. Are you sick to your stomach or anything."

"No. Just feel shaky and tired. And it's freezing in here, man."

"Actually, no it's not. That's your fever." He set the bottle and glass of water on the end table. Taking out the digital thermometer he pressed the button to reset it. "Here. Open up and under the tongue."

"Face, I don't need you fussing over me. Just leave me alone," BA said sharply.

"I'm going to let that go cuz you don't feel well. But keep it up and I _will_ leave you to your own devices. Now open up."

BA obeyed. From spending as much time as he did with Face and Hannibal he knew it wasn't an idle threat.

A minute and one thermometer reading later, Face couldn't get the aspirin in him fast enough, "You're burning up, BA. I'll go call into work for you. Be back in a few."

Returning from calling in to the R&D depart to which BA had been assigned Face felt the Sergeant's forehead again. BA stared up at him. He looked pathetic. Face asked, "I'm going to run down to the drugstore and get you some more Tylenol. Is there anything else you need?"

"I could use another blanket. It's really cold in here."

Face felt the sick man's head and cheek again, "BA, you're so hot. I don't want to cook you. Wait until I get back and we give the Tylenol a chance to work. I really don't want to overheat you. Okay?"

Not happy with that answer, but what could he do? He was at Face's mercy, "Okay."

"I won't be long," Face was heading out the door.

Pulling out of the drive he decided to bypass the Walgreens and head to the Publix instead. Into his half size cart went the acetaminophen, several liters of ginger ale, a stack of magazines, DVDs from the bin up front and a couple of books. Although raised Catholic, Face knew millions of Jewish bubbies weren't wrong. He picked up several cans of chicken stock and boxes of matzo ball mix.

Murdock was at the house when he returned. He was sitting on the sofa, sprawled maybe a better word, with his head back. It didn't look like he was just there for lunch.

"Hey, Buddy," Face called over his shoulder as he took the grocery bags to the kitchen. He set the bags on the counter and came back around the corner, "Wasn't expecting you. Take off early today?"

"I don't know what's up with me, Faceman. I feel so run down. Flat out exhausted."

"Well BA is upstairs sick in bed. Why don't you go lie down?"

"Sounds like too much effort."

Face stood next to the table behind the sofa and felt Murdock's forehead. He wasn't surprised by the heat. "You need a hand getting up there?"

Murdock sighed, "No. You do whatever you were doing. You and Hannibal are leaving this afternoon aren't you?"

"We were planning on it. I'm going to make some matzo ball soup for BA. Glad I got extra. Looks like you could use some too."

"What's a Catholic boy like you know about matzo?"

"Only rumors."

"Oy Vey Maria." He foisted himself to standing and made his way to the stairs.

Face returned to the kitchen and unpacked the bags. A dozen bags with two or three items in each. It drove him crazy. He usually told the packers he didn't care what was packed with what, only give him the minimum amount of bags. But today he had been distracted, worried about BA. What had fit in one of the mini carts would now overflow from it. The packer said he would be right back, he needed a bigger cart. "No, don't bother with the cart. I'll just carry them."

Back home he was stuffing bags inside of bags. He took the pain reliever with him as he headed upstairs. Glancing in Murdock's room on his way to BA he saw the pilot had face planted on his bed.

BA roused to a hand on his forehead then a stroke to his cheek. Opening his eyes he found Face slide into a smile, "You feel warm, but not hot like before. How ya doin' big guy?"

All he could muster was a groan.

"Let me take your temperature again," holding out the thermometer. BA didn't argue. "Fever is down. You still cold?"

"No, I'm good."

"I got some ginger ale. I'll bring it up in a minute. Murdock is here. He doesn't feel good either. You want anything else?"

"No. Thanks, Face."

He was out the door and around the corner to the next bedroom. Murdock was still face down on the bed. "Hey," giving him a slap on a boot, "Sit up for a few minutes so we can get your clothes off."

Murdock turned his head to the side, "Not now Facey. You're going to have to wait for Hannibal to get home. I have a headache."

"Very funny. Get up. I'll be right back." Face headed down the hall to the bathroom. Digging through the cabinet he found the bottle of alcohol. He removed the lid and poured some on a clean wash cloth to wipe the thermometer. When he got back to Murdock he found him sitting up, but hadn't started undressing. Kneeling in front of him Face said, "Get your shirt off, I'll get the boots."

They had him down to his skivvies in no time. He was in bed, covers pulled up to his chin, "Are you cold, Buddy?"

"Yeah, a little."

He pulled the acetaminophen from his pocket and set it on the nightstand, "I forgot a glass of water for you. Let's take your temperature. Open up."

Murdock didn't protest Face's ministration. He felt Murdock's forehead again. Looking up at Face he could only manage a slight grin with the thermometer in his mouth. Sitting on the side of the bed Face smiled back down on him.

Taking the instrument from his mouth when it beeped, "Well you're not as bad as BA was. We'll get these in ya," he rattled the bottle of pills, "Maybe we can catch it before you really spike. Do you want water or ginger ale?"

"Ginger ale sounds good."

"Do you really have a headache?"

"Yeah, a steady thud."

"Anything else? Sick to your stomach? Sore throat?"

"Just the headache."

"I'll be back in a bit."

Face returned with the ginger ale for Murdock. He shook out a couple of tablets, "Come on. Sit up for a second." Taking the glass back as Murdock settled down to his pillow he said, "I'll get you a refill." He headed down the hall with BA's ginger ale. Stepping in the room, he quietly deposited the glass on the nightstand so as not to wake the sleeping man.

Still carrying Murdock's glass he made his way back down the hallway toward the stairs. While passing his and Hannibal's room he glanced in. The suitcase was open on his side of the bed, still empty. _Shit_.

He refilled the glass, went back up the stairs leaving it with Murdock and was now again in the kitchen reading the back of the matzo ball mix. "Eggs." He checked the fridge and sighed in relief to find a full carton. He gathered his ingredients and mixed up the paste, placing it in the refrigerator to rest for half an hour. Leaving a pot of chicken stock to warm he went back upstairs to begin packing.

Running through their austere itinerary in his head, he went to the closet to pick out a suit for each of them along with shirts. Flipping through the vast collection on the tie rack, he decided on two for each of them. He figured one never knew what kind of mood they would be in in the future. He selected shoes to accompany each suit and placed them next to the suitcase on the bed.

Onward to the dresser he pulled socks and underwear. One pair of Summer shorts each would suffice, the weather called for a chill and rain. It didn't matter, they loved their favorite getaway fair weather or foul. Two sweaters each. Setting them on the bed he thought of John chastising him for his tendency for overpacking. _Whatever_. T-shirts for him, polo shirts for Hannibal. John needed a pair of jeans, he was already wearing his. He set out a complete outfit for John to change into when he got home, leaving it on his side of the bed.

Then there was John's robe. Wide enough for his shoulder span and long enough for his 6' 4" frame the damn thing needed its own suitcase. Temp took it from the hook on the bathroom door and folded it carefully. As he did he pictured John in it. Sitting on the little terrace off their room with his bare feet up, crossed at the ankles, on the iron cafe table; a cigar in one hand, sipping coffee with the other. What a sight. Temp realized he had sighed and smiled at the thought of it. _Beau_.

He stroked the plush terry cloth and the image in his mind's eye changed to the times it was cool and John would add black socks. He again pictured him at the table, cigar chomped down in the corner of his mouth, socks pulled tight and straight over his ankles, reading the paper. With the sock clad feet under his chair up on toes, touching at the heels, knees spread wide all he needed were a pair of brown sandals to complete the look. He huffed a little laugh and shook clear his mind's Etch-a-Sketch.

He checked the time. It had been over half an hour since he made the mix. He headed back down to the kitchen thinking to himself he had to get a move on. It was going on noon and John would be home soon. Turning up the heat under the pot, it quickly came to a boil. He scooped out a spoonful of the glop. With wet hands he formed it into a ball and dropped it in the rolling chicken stock. He marveled at how this sticky, gross mess transformed into the healing dumplings. He continued on making successive balls, occasionally wetting his hands between. He had covered the pot, turned down the heat and was setting the timer when he heard the electric garage door opener begin hoisting its load.

Hannibal walked into the kitchen and was hit with the smell of comfort. "What are you making, Temp?"

"Matzo ball soup. Both BA and Murdock are here sick in bed." He was washing the items he used for mixing.

Hannibal set his briefcase on the kitchen table, "What's wrong with them?"

"Flu of some sort." He finished drying his hands and went up on his toes to kiss his man. Over six foot himself it was still a reach, especially when he only had on socks. Wearing his boots, which also contained a couple of layers of gel heel cushions, Hannibal was close to six-six.

Temp had wrapped his hand around John's neck then moved it up to his forehead and temple, "You feel warm."

"Do I? I was thinking it's a little chilly in here. I'm going to lie down for an hour or so before we go. I have the start of a headache. That alright with you?"

"Sure, I'll be up in a little bit." _I'll bring the thermometer._

Temp put away the clean dishes then went out to the mailbox. He absently flipped through the mail as he made his way back up the walk to the front door. He set the pile on the table behind the sofa thinking he'd probably have plenty of time to go through it later. In the upstairs bath he again wiped down the thermometer with alcohol.

Hannibal had stripped down to his boxers and was under the blankets. _He doesn't feel well_ , Face thought to himself; otherwise, he would be in his clothes on top of the covers. He sat on the edge of the bed. Resting his hand on John's shoulder he leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Hannibal sighed, "Feel like I didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Don't look at me. I didn't lay a hand on you last night."

"We won't let that happen tonight," Hannibal added with a quirk of a brow.

"That remains to be seen. Open up," he said subconsciously opening his own mouth.

Hannibal closed his eyes and parted his lips expecting a warm kiss. Instead he felt the point of the thermometer shoved under his tongue.

 

Face reached to the top shelf in one of the cabinets to the oversized, wide-mouthed soup mugs. When he bought them John had complained, "We don't need those. We already have soup bowls."

"What if someone's sick in bed? These have handles."

Hannibal sighed looking at the set Face had picked out, "We only need one. It's not like everyone is going to be sick at the same time."

Setting them on one of the breakfast trays they didn't need either he couldn't wait to hand one to John.

Temp had gone to his and John's room to move all of the clothes from his side of the bed to the upholstered chair in the corner. He closed the suitcase and set it aside. They wouldn't be going anywhere.

THUMP!

Temp was out the door and in the hall in a heartbeat. There was movement in BA's room. He tapped lightly on the door while opening it to peek in, sending it wide open when he saw BA on the floor. Helping him to sit up Face asked what happened.

"Don't really know. Got up to take a leak and just kinda hit the floor."

"Oh man, BA. That's not good. Come on, I'll give you a hand." They managed to get him standing and BA leaned on him heavily the few steps down the hall to the bath. "Want me to stay in here with ya?"

"No. I'm good. I'll hold the wall."

Face leaned against the wall outside the door with his hands behind him and waited, "Hey, BA? If your up to it, I can wait while you brush your teeth."

The toilet was flushed and the water in the sink came on, "Don't smell so good, huh?" came from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," Face said to the floor.

A couple of minutes later the door was opened and the big guy wrapped one arm around Face's shoulder. He balanced himself with the other hand along the wall until they were back in his room. "Please be careful. Call me if you need to get up again, okay?" He was pulling the covers up to BA's chin. Bosco hated being fussed over, but let Face do it knowing he couldn't help himself. Face was always there to care for them. "I'll get you some more ginger ale."

"Thanks."

Glass in hand Face stopped in Murdock's room. His glass was empty too. Picking it up he heard from the bed, "What was that noise, Faceman? Sounded like a piece of furniture fell over."

"Close. BA fell down. I don't want you trying to go to the bathroom by yourself, okay? Call me."

"Okay." Murdock worked a hand out from under his covers, as Face took it in his own he said, "I really don't feel good."

Face stroked his hair back from his forehead, "I know you don't." Murdock was relaxing into the caresses, "Can I get you anything, Buddy?"

"That soup ready yet?"

"Sure is. I'll be back in a little bit."

Out the door he went turning right to BA's room. "Hey BA. You want some soup?"

"Okay."

Into his own room he went around the bed, "John? You awake?"

"Barely."

"I'm getting the guys soup. You want some too?"

"That sounds good, Temp. I never did have lunch. What was that noise?"

"BA trying to get out of bed by himself. I'll be back in a few," he said collecting his glass to take with the others for refills.

He ladled two matzo balls and extra broth into the mugs, adding a spoon to the tray for each. He took the ginger ale out of the fridge and realized he didn't know which glass was which. _They all have the same bug. Does it matter who gets which?_ He contemplated for almost a minute, having to snap himself out of it. _Just wash them._ He pulled another glass from the cabinet for himself. After filling three of them with ginger ale he stopped at the fourth. John had water before. Did he want water with the soup or ginger ale? Had he asked him? He couldn't remember. He was halfway across the living room to go ask him before it occurred to him. Fill it with ginger ale. If he doesn't want it, dump it and get water in the bathroom. He was feeling a little foggy.

Back to the kitchen he filled the glass and put everything on the breakfast tray. Carrying the tray across the living room he was starting to feel like he was on a march. Seemed like he had been on his feet a lot. He put on a smile before stepping into BA's room.

Leaving the tray on the dresser, he took one of the glasses and set it on the nightstand. While BA sat up he dropped a spoon in the mug. "Here ya go. Need anything else?"

"How about a napkin or paper towel?"

"Sure. Let me hand these out and I'll get it for you."

Off to Murdock's room, "Hey Bud. Here's your soup."

"Thanks Facey."

"I'll be back with a napkin."

In by Hannibal, "You awake John?"

No answer. He left the tray and ran downstairs for paper towels. Back upstairs, he dropped one off with BA and one wth Murdock before going back to Hannibal.

"John? Wake up."

Rousing John asked, "What is it?"

"I have your lunch."

Hannibal wanted to tell him not now, but didn't have the heart. Knew Face loved caring for him. Sitting up Face turned the pillows up behind him. When he was handed the mug he looked at it for a few seconds, a furrow setting deep in his brow. "Is this one of the 'What if everyone gets sick at the same time' mugs?

"Sure is, " Face smirked carrying his own mug to sit on the bed. They both started laughing.

"Temp I'm sorry, but I can't do it this weekend."

"I know, I already figured that and it's alright. Can't help it you're sick."

"I was really looking forward to it."

"Really John, it's okay," he took a sip from his mug.

"Taking care of all three of us? That's not how you planned on spending the weekend."

"I bet all of you are better tomorrow. And besides, it could have been a hell of a lot worse. You could all be throwing up left and right."

"Did you cancel the reservations?"

"Not yet. Been too busy chasing after you guys," he said with a laugh. "I'll do it when we're done eating."

They ate in silence. Hannibal tipped his mug up for the last of the chicken broth. Face held out his hand, "Give it here."

Face put the mugs, spoons and crumbled paper towels back on the tray. "You want more ginger ale?"

"No. I'm good. Thanks, Temp."

"Let's get your pillows down again so you can stretch out," Before John could tell him he could do it himself, Face was pushing him forward, pulling out the pillows, fluffing and returning them to the bed.

Once Hannibal had sunk back on the bed Face leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"Thanks. I love you, Temp."

"I love you too, Beau." He was pulling up the covers, "Get some rest." With another kiss he was off and running again.

After collecting the dishes he was in the kitchen once more. He hand washed the mugs and set aside. Better to have them ready than having to pull from the dishwasher later. There was a glass on the counter. _Whose is that?_ He wracked his brain going through the three men. They had all declined refills. With a bit of a duh moment he realized it was his. He was getting tired.

His glass went in the dishwasher and he went to his computer to look up the number for the French Lic Inn. He cancelled their room and dinner reservation. He sorted through the mail. Most of what they received at the house was junk. They had most things sent to Hannibal's office where his assistant opened or passed it on to the Colonel to take home. He also managed things for them while they were deployed.

He slumped onto the sofa to take a breather when....

All together now...  
"Faceman!"  
"Temp!"  
"Facey!"  
_God help me_.

Up the stairs and in by Hannibal. "Temp, would you make me some tea?"

"Sure, but it might be awhile. Need to see what the other two need."

Into Murdock's room, "What's up, Bud?"

"Need to go to the bathroom, Faceman."

"Okay. Let me check on BA and I'll be right back."

Down the hall to BA, "Need something, BA?"

"Any of that soup left?"

"Yeah, there's a lot. Made a pot of it. You want one or two matzo balls?"

"Two."

"Gotta help Murdock first."

Back to Murdock. Helping him out of bed he was worried by how shaky the man was. "You gonna make it down the hall? I think we have a urinal around here somewhere."

"If you don't mind helpin', I can do it."

With Murdock safely back in bed Face returned to BA, "Want more ginger ale to go with your soup?"

"Sure."

Taking the glass he made his way back down the hallway. _Wonder how many times I've gone back and forth here today._ Passing by his and Hannibal's room he heard, "Any word on that tea, Temp?"

"Getting there, Hannibal," he shot over his shoulder.

In the kitchen Face rifled through the cabinets and found only one English Breakfast Tea bag, the only kind Hannibal would drink and thought he needed to go back to the grocer. He heated a mug of water in the microwave and pulled the soup out of the fridge. Exchanging the mug of soup for the mug of water to heat, he started thinking about what he would get from the store.

 _Need more ginger ale, figure out something for dinner._ _They're not going to want to eat soup again. And there was something else._ His mind was drawing a blank. Dipping the tea bag up and down in the water he looked around the kitchen, it wasn't coming to him. The microwave beeped saying the soup was done. He scanned the kitchen one more time hoping something would trigger his memory. _Dammit, what was it?_ He pulled the tea bag form the mug and dropped it in the sink. _Oh yeah....tea._ He grabbed the mini pad of paper and started a list.

After adding sugar and milk to the tea he set a spoon in the soup. With a paper towel and another glass of ginger ale also on the tray he again crossed the living room to the stairs. His gait could no longer be described as a trot, it was more of a trudge.

Stopping to drop off the tea first, "There ya go," doing his best to smile.

"Did you make it with two bags?"

"No, I could only find one."

Not actually complaining, just making the statement, "I prefer it with two," taking a sip.

"Well there was only one," Face snapped at him, picking up the tray and heading for the door. Hannibal wisely shut his mouth.

Coming out the door he heard Murdock call him. Sticking his head in the door, "Need something?"

Murdock was holding his glass, "I think I would like more ginger ale after all."

"Okay," holding the tray out, "Put it on there." Turning to the door he said, "Gotta drop off BA's soup first."

"Here's your soup." He set the tray down and took the mug and paper towel.

"Startin' to think ya forgot," BA said with a grin.

Face turned around in front of the dresser, soup in one hand, paper towel in the other. "Which do you think will warm you up faster, eating it or wearing it? I can accommodate you either way."

Down the stairs, up the stairs and Murdock had his ginger ale. Exiting the room he looked across the hall and saw John attempting to stand up from the bed, "Hannibal!" The shout startled John and he plopped back down on the bed barely hitting it and thinking he was going to slide to the floor. "What the hell are you doing?" Temp was in front of him lifting him back on the bed from under his armpits. "Jeezus, Hannibal. BA already fell once."

"I need to use the bathroom."

"Well I'll help you."

They were on their way back to the bed when John asked, "You okay, Kid?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You seem .... You've been calling me Hannibal," something he never did at home amongst the four of them.

"Have I? I didn't notice." Face helped him back into bed, giving him an absent pat on the shoulder. "Think you can stay put for an hour? I need to go back to the store and I don't want to worry about you getting out of bed and pulling a William Holden."

"I won't budge. I promise."

Across the hall, "Hey Aichem? You okay for an hour? So I can go to the store?" No response. He was sleeping.

"Bosco? You awake."

"Yeah, Faceman."

"Can you stay in bed for an hour or so, not try to get up, while I go back to the store?"

"Help me to the bathroom again?"

"Sure."

BA was sitting on the edge of the bed. Face held both his hands out for him to take. With Face pulling him to standing, BA didn't stop. He wrapped his arms around the LT's shoulders for a quick hug, "Thanks Faceman."

Seldom demonstrative BA brought a wide smile to Temp's face. "Better be careful there, Bosco. I'm this close to kissing you."

Fully expecting a typical BA reply he couldn't have been more surprised by, "I'm this close to letting you."

Face smiled even wider, "Come on, big guy."

Getting settled back in bed, "What are you getting at the store?"

"How does lasagna and garlic bread sound for dinner?"

"Sounds good."

"Any requests?"

"A new Motor Trend?"

"Be right back." Face had forgotten about the magazines. He was handing over a brand new Motor Trend plus a Car and Driver a couple of minutes later. "Forgot I picked these up for you this morning."

"That kiss is closer to becoming a reality."

This got a laugh out of Face. "I'll be back soon."

Looking in on Murdock and Hannibal he found them both sleeping. Grabbing his keys he made his way back to the Publix. Besides the items on his short list he found himself waylaid in the bakery. Sugar cookies with M&Ms sounded perfect.

Preheating the oven he checked in each room. They were all sleeping. Face felt like he could breathe. He just didn't feel like he could focus. It had been ghosting him all day. The oven beeped to say it was preheated. The lasagna took over an hour to cook in the oven. That would work out fine. Give him time to make the garlic bread and everyone else a nap.

Face woke to the timer on the oven beeping. He had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, head on his crossed arms. _Shit!_ Popping up he dug through a drawer for the garlic press. With a small pan and a stick of butter he was squeezing garlic through the press as it heated. The foil pan of lasagna was setting on the counter while he spread garlicky buttery goodness over the french bread loaf.

Upstairs he woke everyone and took drink orders. Having mixed up the glasses again he washed all three before refilling them, cutting the lasagna and plating it. Only two meals would fit on the tray at one time. He grabbed a pencil and the puzzle magazine he bought earlier to add to the tray.

"Here Aichem, thought you might want to try some of these," handing over the periodical and pencil before turning back to the dresser and the tray. Looking over the plate in Murdock's lap he asked, "Can I get you anything else?"

"There any Parmesan cheese?"

"I'll look. Don't think there's any of the good stuff. Might be a plastic jar of it."

BA was already digging in as Face set the glass on the nightstand. "I'm going to see if there's Parmesan for Murdock. You want some?"

"Naw, I'm good. Thanks Face."

There was still a corner available on the tray for the familiar green-labeled shaker of cheese. He stopped in Murdock's room then took the cheese with him to have dinner with Hannibal.

"How ya feeling, John?"

"Better. Headache's gone, but I'm still so tired. How you holding up?"

"What a ya mean? I'm fine. Looks like I dodged it."

"I mean you've been running your tail off all day."

"Kinda hoping everyone quietly reads tonight. Oh .... I forgot to bring a book up for you. Picked up something at the store this morning. Don't even remember what it was."

Hannibal just smiled. He knew Face was running himself ragged, but he couldn't help enjoying it. And not only the benefits. This was something he loved so dearly about the man, his need to care for the team. It took him a minute to realize it was because he was sick that he was being overwhelmed by Temp's loyalty and concern.

Temp was sitting cross legged facing Hannibal. He looked up from his plate to see John watching him. "What?"

"Thank you, Babe. Thank you for taking such good care of us." Face smiled a slightly embarrassed smiled and went back to his dinner.

When they had finished Face returned their plates to the tray. With Hannibal still sitting up he laid sideways across the bed, head in John's lap, his fingers twined together resting on his own stomach. Hannibal looked down on him as he stroked his forehead and ran fingers through his hair. This was one of those times John just had to shake his head. How had he been so lucky to have this man in his life? Not only have him _in_ his life, but _sharing_ his life.

Face was staring at the door, mind running this way and that. He finally settled on rescheduling, "Do you know when we can make the new reservations?"

"If they'll have us, no reason we can't go next weekend. Let me check my planner first. Can you get away again next Friday?"

"I'm thinking something's going on then. Can't remember what it is." He arched his back in a stretch. "You know, while we're here, I'd like to invite Dane out for breakfast. You want to come with?"

"Sure. I'd like to meet him."

"Okay. I'll call him." Another stretch and he sat up. John ran his hand down Temp's back. He responded by dropping his head, "That's nice." He sat for a minute then said, "I better get moving again."

Getting up he collected the tray and went to Murdock's room. "You want seconds?"

"No. That was plenty." Face collected the used plate and utensils and made his way to BA's room.

"Do you want seconds?"

"No! I already feel like I should be rollin' around in a mud pit." Face laughed at that and set his plate and silverware on the tray.

After taking a book to Hannibal he was in the kitchen again rinsing the dishes and loading them in the dishwasher. There was only a serving or two left of the lasagna. He transferred it to a smaller plate and covered it with plastic before putting away in the fridge. At the store he had picked up more eggs and extra bread. He buttered a large Pyrex and stacked the bread he was slicing in it. An egg and milk mixture was poured over the bread before he covered it and added to the growing number of items in the fridge. This would be easy, he thought. Just throw in the oven in the morning and they'd have French toast for breakfast.

He searched the refrigerator and found he had forgotten the breakfast sausage he'd planned on. Reaching for his keys, then bringing his hand back empty he said, "Fuck it. They'll survive without it."

The cookies only took half a minute to warm. He covered them with a towel and entering his and Hannibal's room in no time.

"You good, John? Need anything?"

"No. Not a thing."

"How about a couple of warm cookies?"

Hannibal grinned.

BA looked up from Car and Driver to shake his head no when Face poked his head in, "Can I get you anything?" He changed that to a nod when Face lifted the towel to reveal cookies.

He was greeted with a smile when he set the plate of remaining cookies on Aichem's bedside table. Murdock was sitting up, eraser end of a pencil in his mouth contemplating a monster crossword puzzle. "Can I sit with you for a while, Aichem?"

"Yeah. Come help me with this crossword."

Face climbed on the bed from the foot. He plumped the extra pillows and leaned against them sitting tight next to Murdock, shoulder to shoulder. His knees were up and he held his hands, palms together, squeezed between his thighs.

Murdock turned his head and planted a kiss on Face's cheek. Smiling Face asked, "What was that for?"

"You're the best. Thanks for everything you did today."

"You would have too," he deflected.

"We'll never know." This got them laughing.

Hannibal could hear them from his room and smiled. Floating across the hall he heard Murdock, "How do you spell 'aerospace'?" Then Temp, "How the hell should I know? That's your department."

An hour later and Murdock was nudging Face who was sleeping with his head on the pilot's shoulder. "Facey? You gonna sleep here with me?"

"That's tempting, but no," he said stretching. "How ya feeling?"

"Better."

"That's good. Let me walk you down to the bathroom."

"I'll be fine going by myself."

"Humor me, would ya?"

He escorted each of them then made another round with the thermometer. No one's temperature was normal, but none of them had raging fevers anymore. He handed out another round of tablets leaving the bottle on the kitchen counter when he shut off the downstairs lights.

John had the covers turned down for him on his side when he emerged from brushing his teeth. He laid on his stomach fully intending to get back up to take off his clothes and go under the blankets. Waking in the morning in what he would swear was the same position, he was still dressed under the stadium blanket Hannibal had covered him with. John was asleep. He quietly collected fresh clothes and went into the bathroom to prepare for the new day.

He removed the egg and bread dish from the fridge, preheated the oven and made coffee before stepping out the front door for the newspaper. It held little interest for him as he sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee, skimming the headlines. He felt a pressure behind his eyes as he tried to read and decided to fold it up to take to John with his breakfast. _Breakfast_. He looked over at the timer and was confused by seeing the time displayed instead. Catching a glimpse of the egg dish still sitting on the counter, he groaned when he stood to put it in the oven. It had been coming on since the day before, this feeling of being muddled.

Murdock found him sitting at the table, hands on both sides of his head, staring into his coffee. "You okay, facial one?"

"What are you doing up?"

"Tired 'o bein' in bed." He went to the cabinet for a mug and poured himself coffee. An hour later and the four of them were a subdued group sitting around the table eating French toast and drinking coffee.

"If anyone needs acetaminophen, it's here on the counter." Face was collecting dishes. "Everyone out so I can clean in here." The other three moseyed into the next room. The plates were scraped, rinsed and deposited in the dishwasher. The baking dish was filled with soapy water and left to soak. He wiped the counters and table. "Anyone need anything while I'm in here." Unenthusiastic groans and grunts were the answer.

It was a quiet morning split between reading and watching tv. They decided they weren't hungry at lunchtime, but rather, would order a pizza later. From the two DVDs Face had bought with groceries they watched Tropic Thunder early and would save Slum Dog Millionaire for that evening.

When the first movie was over Face went up to put away the clothes that never got packed for their weekend getaway that never happened. He was disappointed, had been looking forward to this back in the desert when Hannibal had originally made the reservation. Luckily or not, he was too tired to give it much thought. After hanging the last tie, the headache that had been threatening all day was starting to break through. He lay on top of the bed covers on his back, forearm draped over his eyes.

Late afternoon and the pizza had arrived. "Where's Face?"

"He went to put our clothes away. I'll get him."

Hannibal found Face curled in a ball and back under the stadium blanket. "Temp. The pizza's here."

Face opened his eyes, trying to focus on one of John's hands. "Beau?"

While BA and Murdock opened the pizza boxes and took out plates, Hannibal poured a glass of ginger ale and pocketed the jar of pain reliever. "Is there any chicken soup left?"

**Author's Note:**

> You know I love kudos and comments. ;)


End file.
